The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1887-01-06

''rll be honest with you. He's not a
baronet He's plain Edward Boyle,
dry goods. Syracuse, N. Y. Papa
knows it but he was afraid to invite any
body here but you without a title.
When we're married we'll break the
truth to her gently. OF course, mamma
won't let papa give US much; we'll not
be rich, but we'll be honest and our
SelUes."
"Sir Boyle Roche"' cried the foot
man.
A tall, slight, red mustached young
man in an evening suit entered, 1
glanced at his face and met his eye. 1t
was shrewd but pleasant face, with
bright, good humoretl eyes and broad
forehead. He looked like somebody.
Who could it be? At least he had a
nice look, and mentally congratulated
Clarjssa, in spite of her deceit.
The dinuer was magnificent. took
Jennie in, Sir Boyle leading with Mrs.
Atkinson; a rather rickety count from
some South American legation took
Clarissa; grew weary of Jennie's
English accent. until Ludovic entered
with the wine cooler. He smiled in
his usual naughty way. When his
eyes fell on Sir Boyle his face changed.
Mother of Mosesr' he whispered,
dropping the apparatus he brought in
with a crash.
Sir Boyle looked up from his plate.
Larry, as l liveH' he exclaimed.
"And when did you come ovcr?" He
forgot etiquette, jumped up and seized
Ludovic's hand. Ludovic's eyes filled
with tears.
''Och. Eddie, ma bouchal! It's little
thought to find you again. Sure,
when l went away from the old cabin
you were bit of boy. And so the
mothers dead! 1 heard that, though
lost track of you all entirely. And mo
dear little brother Eddie's come back
to me-thank God!-the only one of
me blood have in the world!"
1twas an odd scene. 'Sir Boyle."
in his evening suit with Jacque-
minot rose in his buttonhole, embrace
ing the man in livery; Clarissa, pale
and trembling; Jennie amazed, and
Mrs. Atkinson, standing in the attitude
of Medea about to murder her child
rem. Nobody spoke. Mr.. Atkinson
g"lped down glass of champagne.
''Sir Boyle" his eyes moist, turned
to Mr.. Atkinson.
This is my only brother, Mr.. Atkin-
son. Owing to the circumstances very
common in Ireland, he left us when I
was small boy. came here and
made the best of tho chances in your
country -
Il hear you've been making sleeps
eyes at Miss Clara there" interrupted
Ludovlc. ''Well, take him, Miss Clara"
he added, leading the young man up to
that young lady, with sweeping, pa
ternal gesture. ''She's the best of
EN-" he continued, addressing me in
loud whisper, ''but," with sigh,
II wish the boy had looked higher up
in society,""
Both Mrs. Atkinson and Lodoyic
look on the marriage as a shocking
mistake. I'VE must get out of this
country. A nice condition of republic
can simplicity when ones buffers
brother can marry ones daughter"
she said to Hon. George w. Spriggs,
once known as the ''champion bartend-
er of Oshkosh He agreed that it was
dreadful. Ludovic passed into another
family, when he resumed his own name
The last heard of the Atk,nson's
was the report that Mr.. Atkinson had
bought castle in Italy with an estate
of five acres, which carried with it the
title of the Count of Spaghetti de
Monte Rosa Still, I fancy that the
new Countess of Spaghetti de Monte
Rosa is still unhappy because she is
rich. l know that the count is happier
because of the loss of his butler.